Hair's To You

Well it looks like she is back to her old tricks again. One day she is blasting molten rocks at our feet and the next, icy daggers at our hearts.

I should've expected this though. It never stays sunny for long in the ghetto, especially not the green ghetto. There's hardly a day that goes by that it isn't windy here. I have come to accept this and have even tried to make light of the living conditions. Maybe this is a good time to try that new hairstyle I'd say to myself as the fierce wind gave me a comb over that would make even Donald Trump envious. If only he had more hair like me..maybe then it would work.

While days like this leave me open to experiment with my hair, albeit against my will, I find that these are the only days I'd get away with the 'windswept' look. Had I attempted these kinds of young crazy styles on days where the sun was shining and not even Metro Stations pseudo rock song Shake It could get the leaves to rustle I'd have been laughed at, jeered, and made an example of.

Teacher - "Now class here's what NOT to do when you are going through a mid-adolescent crisis."

I'd hide my face in shame, I used to be cool I'd whisper to myself in the locked bathroom cubicle.

So while I usually curse and complain about these annoyingly windy days in the ghetto, I should really be thankful for them. Because without the wind I'd have a normal boring hairstyle just like the rest of you fish.